


Loved You A Long Time

by Writcraft



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Breaking Up & Making Up, M/M, Rimming, Rough Kissing, Semi-Public Sex, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-19
Updated: 2016-05-19
Packaged: 2018-06-09 11:56:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6905260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writcraft/pseuds/Writcraft
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Harry and Severus are thrown together months after parting ways, Harry decides it’s time to tell Severus how he really feels.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Loved You A Long Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Alisanne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alisanne/gifts).



> Written for Daily Deviant's Banging Birthday at the Daily Deviant community on Livejournal as a gift for the lovely Alisanne.

It’s Ron’s fault. Some kind of cock up with the booking. An oversight, he says. If Ron wasn’t panicking about getting married in twenty-four hours, Harry might have been tempted to kick up a fuss. Probably. It’s difficult to ignore the anticipation which leaves his skin tingling when he imagines seeing Severus again. Being close to Severus again. If he doesn’t get hexed before he can get within three feet, that is.

“He’s definitely coming?”

“Think so. He told Hermione he was dreading it and made her promise not to sit him with children or drunk Weasleys.” Ron pulls a face. “He’s a right charmer.”

“He has his moments.” Harry swallows and Ron looks apologetic.

“Are you sure you’re-”

“Fine. I’m fine.” Harry’s not sure he is, really but it’s the evening before Ron’s wedding and he’s spent enough lonely nights pining over Severus to last a lifetime. His heart clenches in his chest. Does it ever stop _hurting_? Ron gives him a look that implies he doesn’t believe Harry’s fine for one moment so he musters a smile and shrugs. “I’ll get another room.”

“It’s all fully booked.” Ron tugs at the neck of his sweater as if it’s too tight and has the decency to look sheepish. “Maybe we can find you somewhere else nearby?” He sounds doubtful.

“S’alright.” Harry claps Ron on the shoulder and forces another smile. “It’s not like I haven’t shared a bed with Severus before. I’m sure we’ll make do. You’re getting married tomorrow and we’re not spending the night worrying about my room.”

“No?” Ron looks marginally cheered.

“No,” Harry says. He flicks his wand and Summons a bottle of pre-made bucks fizz which has a low enough alcohol content that it won’t get them completely rat arsed. “Let’s just have a drink.”

“Yeah.” Ron nods and takes a swig from the bottle after Harry opens the bottle with a fizz and a pop. He swipes the back of his hand over his eyes and gives Harry a watery smile. “You’re my best mate, you know. Best Man. Ever.”

A warm rush of affection leaves Harry grinning at Ron and he can almost push unbidden memories of Severus to one side. Almost. “You too. Don’t go crying on me. You’ll get me started.”

Ron passes the bottle to Harry and tugs him close, clapping him on the back and holding him in a tight hug. “No crying, mate. Promise.”

Ron’s definitely lying. Harry breathes in his familiar scent and allows the memory of their years of friendship to fill him with warmth.

The air is heavy with the scent of wood burning in the fire. Ron is warm, solid and smiling like he’s the happiest bloke on earth, eyes suspiciously watery. A lump rises in Harry’s throat and he takes in his friend’s flushed cheeks. He’s got that look. The one Harry calls his Hermione look. The bucks fizz slides pleasantly down his throat, the taste of orange and sparkling wine sweet on his tongue.

It’s moments like this when the ache in his heart eases and Harry knows he’s going to be okay.

Whatever happens, he’s going to be okay.

*

It’s late when Harry gets back to his room. It’s chillier than Ron’s cosy room and he rubs his hands together, blowing on them and wishing he’d thought to light a fire. He searches for a candle to light with his wand when a familiar voice cuts through the shadows, cool and low.

“Show yourself.”

Harry turns, slowly and raises his hands defensively. You never know, with Severus. One minute you’re sneaking around in the darkness, the next you’re tied to a wall and on the business end of his wand. 

“It’s just me. Harry.”

Silence, then a familiar _tut_ from Severus. “If you’re looking for a midnight tryst, Potter, I suggest you try Charlie Weasley. I’ve had a long trip and I don’t expect to be accosted in the middle of the night by former students, even those with certain…celebrity.”

“Oh, give over.” Finally, Harry locates the wall candles. He lights them and the flickering flames bathe the room in warmth. He blinks at Severus who looks as if he hasn’t unpacked, his robes as dark and forbidding as ever. “Were you just standing around in the dark waiting for an opportunity to cast Unforgivables?”

Severus purses his lips. “What I choose to do in the privacy of my own room is none of your business.”

“Not anymore,” Harry mutters. The familiar ache has taken residence in his heart again. The candles burn brightly and the light casts long shadows which contour Severus’ face. Harry’s stomach twists and he itches to burrow into Severus’ arms, seeking solace in their warm strength.

Severus taps his foot, pocketing his wand and perusing Harry. “Well? Do you intend to stand there gormlessly all evening?”

“No.” A wave of tiredness crashes over Harry and he runs his hand through his hair. When did everything get so fucked up? “I was going to get ready for bed and go to sleep. It’s been a long night and this is my room too.”

Severus looks pointedly at the large bed in the middle of the room and then back at Harry, a flicker of horror crossing his features before his expression smooths once more. “We are _not_ sharing a room.”

“’Fraid so.” Harry tries not to sound too huffy at the fact Severus’ voice is tight and furious. “The rooms were booked ages ago and with everything going on, no one thought to change our booking.” He straightens and fixes Severus with a look. “I’m fine with it. It’s not like I haven’t seen you in your nightie before.”

Severus pinches the bridge of his nose and mutters something unpleasant. “Firstly, I do _not_ wear a nightie. Secondly, our circumstances were somewhat different then.”

“Yeah.” Harry remembers. God, he remembers. A few months ago they probably wouldn’t be standing around talking, for a start. A shudder of desire passes through him as he thinks of Severus’ lips, hard and searching. “I remember.”

Severus gives Harry a dark stare, his lips tightly pressed together and his eyebrow arched. He trails his gaze over Harry, before meeting his eyes once more. “You imagine we will both be unaffected by this arrangement?”

Harry shrugs. “We’ll have to do the best we can.” Harry tugs off his jacket and throws it on the nearest chair. “What’s the alternative? There aren’t any other rooms and I’m not missing my best mates getting married. I’ll sleep on the floor if it’s a problem.” He begins to unbutton his shirt because really, he’s knackered and he just wants to sleep for a month. Seeing Severus again is unsettling and the room is too cold, too bright and too quiet.

Severus snarls and he advances towards Harry. “I am _not_ sharing my room with…you.” He says the _you_ like it’s a curse and it makes Harry want to cry and beat his fists against Severus’ chest just to make him see.

“Then you’ll have to sleep on the reception sofa, won’t you?” Harry tips his chin in challenge until Severus harrumphs. His hands clench and unclench, half reaching for Harry and then dropping uselessly at his sides. 

“On the floor. You can stay on the floor. And if you think for one moment-”

“What?” Harry’s anger overtakes the sadness and he refuses to let Severus see any weakness even when his shirt is open and the cool air from the room ghosts over his skin. You think I’m going to try and snog you in your sleep? I like people that want to snog me back, you know. Just…it’s just two nights.” He notices Severus doesn't bother to suggest they Transfigure another bed and _fine_ , then. If that's how Severus wants it to be between them, Harry's just going to let him watch while Harry has a miserable night on the floor. At the very least it might make Severus feel guilty, if he's even capable of it. Harry eyes the carpet and pulls a face. It's going to be bloody uncomfortable. 

“ _Fine_ ,” Severus says in a way which doesn’t make it sound fine at all. “Hurry up and use the bathroom, I’ve had a long journey and I don’t wish to be kept awake by your inane chatter any longer.”

“Of course you don’t.” Harry pushes past Severus, flicking his wand so his wash bag careers with alarming speed towards the bathroom.

With shaking hands he locks the bathroom door behind him. He studies his face in the mirror – pale and slimmer than usual, with sleep-dark shadows around his eyes. He traces the scar along his chest and sucks in a breath as he tries to steady himself.

The bathroom carries the familiar scent of Severus as if he’s only recently showered. Despite himself, Harry can’t help but close his eyes and breathe in. It’s so familiar to him and he’s missed it so much. He won’t tell Severus that, though. He just _won’t_. Instead he splashes cold water on his face and works on pretending he’s not in the slightest bit bothered by the fact Severus smells as good as ever, already dreading a night on the cold floor.

*

Harry wakes with a whimper, the shadows closing in on him.

“Don’t.” He grips his wand, trying to remember where he fell asleep as the shadows edge closer still. It’s like they have a life of their own, moving around him, thick and cloying. Is he on the floor? “I said, _don’t_. Stay back or I’ll-”

“Potter!” A familiar voice cuts through the darkness and the unfamiliar space is bathed in low, soothing light from the tip of Severus’ wand. It makes his face glow strangely, his features sharper than usual as Harry blinks and shivers. He pulls the thin blanket around himself and clutches onto his knees, hugging himself tightly.

“Severus?”

“We’re in the Cotswolds. Your ridiculous friends are getting married tomorrow.”

“Yeah.” It comes flooding back and the tight knot of fear unravels, Harry’s heart slowing to a steady _thump, thump_. “I remember. Why are you all the way over there?” 

Something undecipherable passes over Severus’ features and he pauses. “Because I have no desire to sleep on the floor.”

“Oh.” Why is _Harry_ on the floor? He shakes his head again and the last big argument comes to the forefront of his mind in fragmented pieces. They were always so bad at communicating, he and Severus. Harry didn’t want Severus to see the broken bits and Severus never let Harry in so they just…stopped. Stopped talking, carried on fucking and pretended they didn’t care until the day everything fell apart.

“Because-” Severus begins to speak and Harry can’t hear it. He isn’t ready for the _because I don’t love you anymore_ , not when his mind is rich with nightmares and his hands won’t stop shaking.

“It’s okay. I know why. I remember.” Harry swallows back a wave of emotion, his body cold and his stomach knotted. His voice is low and hollow. “Sorry to wake you.”

There’s a pause, then a rustle from the bed. When Harry looks up, Severus lifts the cover and gives him a pointed look.

“Come here, Potter.”

With another swallow, Harry shifts from the floor and crawls into the bed. It’s so warm. The pillows smell like Severus and the warm brush of fingers against his chilled skin makes him shiver with desire. He fights back the flickering flames of arousal, somewhat dampened by sadness and exhaustion.

“Thanks.” He’s rewarded with a non-committal huff and the light goes out plunging the room into darkness. Harry still has the feeling he’s being watched, imagining Severus’ dark eyes blinking at him and trying to make out his expression as their eyes adjust. It’s easier to talk in the darkness. It always has been. He lets his fingers creep across the bed until they brush against Severus’ arm, down to his hand. They twine their fingers together and Harry takes in the sharp hitch of Severus’ breathing. He clutches on tight but Severus makes no attempt to move away, his thumb stroking over the spot between Harry’s thumb and forefinger.

“Missed you,” Harry whispers. He’s exhausted from the dark force of his nightmares and his voice is slurred and lazy with sleep. He’s not even sure he’s speaking out loud anymore, stumbling over the words he whispers to his one photograph of Severus when he’s feeling particularly maudlin. “My heart hurts without you.”

It’s the first time he’s come close to admitting how much he needs, how much he _wants_. In response Severus squeezes Harry’s fingers and sighs.

“Sleep, Harry.”

With a nod, Harry lets sleep overtake him and burrows closer to Severus in the comfortable bed. As he’s drifting off he feels a strong arm wrap around him, inviting him closer. He rubs his nose against Severus’ chest, his eyes damp and the lump in his throat difficult to swallow around. 

He falls asleep to the gentle stroke of fingers through his hair and hears Severus murmur something which he hopes is _I missed you, too_.

*

Severus is nowhere to be seen when Harry wakes and it’s only during the service that Harry catches his eye from his position at the back of the room. He meets Harry’s gaze with an unreadable expression, turning to look at the window after a moment.

He looks so very _good_ and it’s like there’s no one there but them, watching one another and missing so much it hurts. Harry turns back to the task at hand, pushing all thoughts of Severus to the back of his mind. The day isn’t about his ridiculous love life. It’s about Ron – who’s beaming as if his face might split in two. It’s about Hermione who glows with happiness as she looks up at Ron, her eyes full of fondness and affection.

Setting his face in a happy smile, Harry focuses on Ron and Hermione. It’s their day, after all. It’s not for him to stand around making moon eyes at his old Professor when he needs to concentrate on saying the bonding spell over the rings. Thank Merlin he doesn’t have to make a speech like at Muggle weddings. 

He can hit the wine and dance like an idiot and maybe he’ll be able to show Severus how happy he is. Because, really. He’s _fine_.

*

“No children or drunk Weasleys. I suppose I should be grateful for small mercies.” Severus’ voice is low in Harry’s ear as he traces his finger over the seating plan to find his name next to another, all too familiar name.

 _Severus Snape_.

“You might have a drunk Harry Potter on your hands, though.” Harry turns and Severus is so close he can almost feel the low huff of breath from Severus’ lips against his skin.

Severus’ lips twitch and he clinks their glasses together, eyes dark and voice rich and deep. “I know how to handle him, however.”

“You do.” Harry swallows as he stares at Severus, his words sending a rush of heat through Harry’s body. He takes a sip of his drink to bide his time and lets his tongue slide over his lips. “You always did.”

“Indeed.” Severus brushes his fingers against Harry’s arm and he studies him. “You look a little more well rested today.”

“It’s a comfortable bed.” Heat rises in Harry’s cheeks because he knows exactly why he slept so well. The beating of Severus’ heart, the rich, spicy scent of his shower gel and the warm, hard strength of his body had all lulled Harry into a perfectly dreamless sleep. “I don’t mind taking the floor again though, if you want.”

“I hardly think there’s any need for that.” Severus waves his hand, dismissive. “I wouldn’t like to be blamed for making the hero of the wizarding world miss out on his beauty sleep.”

“It never bothered you before.” Harry can’t resist a grin, shifting a little closer to Severus. He’s not sure what they’re doing but he’s not about to stop it now. Not when Severus looks better than ever and keeps giving Harry that dark, unfathomable stare.

“No. It didn’t.” Severus’ lips curve into a rather dangerous smile and he places his hand on the small of Harry’s back, urging him into the large hall which looks like Hogwarts at Christmas – laden with sumptuous treats and full of people chatting and laughing. “We should take our seats.”

Harry resists the urge to lean back into Severus and makes his way through the room. He settles into his seat, which seems to have been placed particularly close to Severus. Every time he reaches for water or wine he brushes against Severus and their legs press together under the table. It’s distracting in the extreme. He checks that no one else is listening to their conversation and lowers his voice so he won’t be overheard.

“Sorry about last night. I had a nightmare.”

“I gathered as much.” Severus settles back and sips his wine, eyeing Harry out of the corner of his eye. “I was under the impression you no longer had problems sleeping.”

Of course. Because that’s what Harry told Severus, brushing off the kind of nightmares that still leave his whole body shaking and his heart racing hard enough to hurt. 

_Just a silly dream. I hardly get them at all, now. Go back to sleep._

“I still don’t sleep well.” Harry looks at the table his cheeks heating. Sometimes, late at night he would leave the comfort of bed with Severus and splash cold water on his face, trying to regulate his breathing before Severus noticed Harry wasn’t sleeping next to him. “I never have.”

“No,” Severus replies. He doesn’t sound surprised. It’s like he’s always known. “I imagine not, after your experiences during the war.”

Harry swallows and he looks at Severus determined that this time, he’ll be as brave as he can. “It was always better. With you. Sometimes I tried to hide it, though. I didn’t want you to think I needed looking after.”

“I see.” Severus’ expression is implacable as ever. He takes a forkful of his food and gives Harry a look. “I worked as a spy for more years than I care to remember. Did you think I wouldn’t notice someone in my bed creeping around at night trying not to wake me?”

“You never said.” Harry’s cheeks heat further, warmth spreading from his neck upwards. He hadn’t considered for one moment that Severus noticed all the times Harry tried to hide his tears and fear of the oppressive darkness. Now he thinks on it, he’s not sure why it should surprise him at all.

“I rather hoped you might come to me of your own accord.” Severus brushes Harry’s fingers with his own as he reaches for the butter. “It was not my wisest move.”

“I might not have told you, even if you’d asked. I didn’t want you to think differently of me then.”

“And now?” 

“Trying to hide the broken bits didn’t work very well last time.” Harry musters a small smile and glances at Severus. “Perhaps I need to be better at letting people I care about see them.”

“Perhaps.” Severus nods and his thigh presses against Harry’s under the table again. Severus nudges Harry’s shoulder with his own, his voice low in Harry’s ear. “Eat, Potter. People will start to wonder if I’m putting you off your food.”

“You are a bit.” Harry pulls a face and tucks into his food nevertheless, a comfortable silence settling over them. “Bit distracting being here with you. Maybe we could have a dance later?”

“I think you’re confusing me with another of your paramours.” Severus snorts and pushes his plate away, his meal finished. “I don’t dance.”

“There haven’t really been any other _paramours_.” Harry raises his eyebrows at Severus. “If that means other people I shag.”

Severus’ lips twitch and he lets out a low laugh. “In a manner of speaking.”

“Well, then. None of those. Not since…” Harry trails off and Severus leans in close, his voice a low murmur.

“Not since you were in my bed.”

That voice. That bloody _voice_. Harry’s ready to slide under the table, propriety be damned. His brain actually melts when Severus speaks in those low tones, the murmur evoking memories of skin against skin and brutal, urgent kisses.

“Sometimes _you_ were in _my_ bed.” Harry steels his shoulders and tries to sound as if he’s completely unaffected. He’s not sure he manages it because his voice breaks in half when Severus presses their legs together again. 

“I haven’t forgotten.” Severus pours another glass of wine for himself and one for Harry.

“Neither have I.” Harry sips his wine gratefully and then presses his foot over Severus’ with a light nudge. “Why didn’t you get in touch?”

“Why didn’t you?” Severus turns the question back at Harry, sliding his foot on top of Harry’s in a strange battle of wills. He smirks and Harry rolls his eyes. A strange, giddy feeling wells up within him and he winks at Severus.

“You know I’ve never had a problem with you being on top, Severus.” He says it as quietly as he can manage, shifting his foot beneath Severus to emphasise the point.

Severus moves his foot and for a moment Harry thinks he’s taken it too far. Then a warm hand settles on his thigh and it’s all Harry can do to bite back a groan. 

“I would say _never had a problem_ would be doing both of us a disservice.” Severus squeezes his hand and presses his lips against the shell of Harry’s ear. “There are few things more compelling than the sight of you naked and wanting.”

Harry’s cheeks could actually be on fire now. The palms of his hands are clammy and his cock is half hard, thickening in his trousers as Severus’ lips linger just a little too long next to Harry’s ear. He closes his eyes for a moment and tries to think of something horrible enough to dampen the hot flush of arousal coursing through his veins. He’s not sure it’s working.

“Christ, Severus. Can you just…?” Harry looks at him pleadingly and shoves a slice of wedding cake in his direction. “I don’t know. Eat something.”

Severus takes a piece of the cake between his fingers and chews, letting out a low rumble of appreciation which doesn’t help Harry’s cause. “I believe I asked you a question.”

“It was my question first.” Harry glares at Severus and then shrugs, looking down. “I didn’t think you’d want to hear from me. I wrote a hundred owls and threw them all away without sending them. I suppose I wasn’t ready to be told to bugger off and leave you alone.”

Severus studies Harry carefully. “And yet here you are, talking of nightmares and aching hearts. Are you prepared to take that risk now?”

“Are you going to tell me to bugger off?” Harry challenges.

Severus stares at Harry and then he removes his hand from Harry’s thigh, instead moving to brush a little hair from Harry’s forehead. The touch is strangely intimate – public and visible to anyone at their table who gives two hoots about Harry and Severus’ conversation. It sends a shiver of pleasure through Harry’s body and speaks volumes. Out of the corner of the eye he can see Ron giving him a thumbs up, flushed and smiling. 

Harry can’t stop the smile which spreads across his face, the ache in his heart loosening and the warmth of being like this with Severus again settling around him like a blanket. He tucks into his cake with renewed vigour, making certain he licks the icing from his thumb in the most suggestive manner he can muster.

“Brat.” Severus nudges Harry, but he sounds unbelievably fond. He speaks in the tone he used when it was late at night and Harry would catch Severus giving him the strangest look. Harry’s blanket of warmth tightens around him as if he’s being held tightly in strong arms. Only Severus. Only Severus has ever done that to Harry, caressing him with few words and long, dark stares which make Harry feel safer than he ever has.

“Maybe I am.” Harry shrugs, unable to control the happiness in his voice. He stands and places his napkin on the table, making his apologies. “Just nipping to the loo.”

When Harry hears the scrape of a chair and Severus’ low murmur of apology shortly after, he resists the urge to laugh.

“I don’t think we’re very subtle,” he says, when Severus crowds him against the bathroom door and presses close to him. 

“I don’t particularly care.” Severus nudges Harry into one of the cubicles and kisses him until Harry’s pliant and eager, rocking against the leg Severus insinuates between Harry’s.

“Merlin, I’ve missed this.” 

Severus brushes his lips to Harry’s jaw and lets out a hum of agreement, sucking at a spot on Harry’s neck which makes him arch towards Severus. There’s never anything gentle about the way Severus kisses and it’s just how Harry likes it. He rocks against Severus’ thigh and groans low in his throat when Severus opens the buttons on his trousers and wraps a firm hand around Harry’s cock. With a hiss of pleasure, Harry bucks forward into Severus’ fist.

“That’s it.” Severus nips at Harry’s ear, the only sign of how this is impacting him the rough, husky note to his voice. He quickens his movement over Harry’s cock, stroking him firmly and just on the right side of rough. He flicks his wrist and swipes his thumb over the head of Harry’s cock, capturing his lips in another deep kiss. 

“I want you so much. I’ve always wanted you.” It’s true, now Harry says the words out loud. He’s wanted Severus from that first strange, scorching kiss which tasted of blood and copper. He’s wanted him from the battle field moment when he thought Severus might be lost to him forever. He’s wants Severus with every aching pulse of his heart, every heady rush of desire. It’s like Severus fills a spot that’s been cold and empty without him.

“Silly twit.” Severus rubs his thumb over the head of Harry’s cock and sucks a rather embarrassing mark onto Harry’s neck. There’s something so territorial about it, Harry’s harder than ever. He pushes into Severus’ hand with a ragged gasp and Severus responds with a squeeze and another long, quick stroke of Harry’s length. “You’re so _eager_ , Harry.”

“ _Yes_.” Harry’s cheeks heat because he really is and he doesn’t care if Severus sees the whole of him in that one moment. He thrusts into Severus’ hand again, pushing his hand between them and palming at the bulge in Severus’ trousers. “But so are you.”

It’s brilliant to feel it. Severus, loving this. Severus hard and aching just from touching Harry – just from kissing Harry. With a groan, Severus captures Harry’s lips in another deep kiss. He licks his way into Harry’s mouth and tastes every part of him, their mouths sweet with cake and wine. Harry clutches his hands into Severus’ hair and focuses on his pleasure while Severus works his hand just as Harry likes. It’s been so long and Harry’s breathless with wanting. It doesn’t take much longer before he’s biting biting down on Severus’ shoulder and shaking into his orgasm. 

“Fucking hell.”

“Indeed.” Severus sounds far too smug and composed. Harry gives him a grin and then moves onto his knees, working open Severus’ trousers. He’s rewarded with a low murmur of appreciation and Severus’ long fingers tangling into his hair. His cock twitches with appreciation at the thought of stretching out on their bed and letting Severus bring him to that point where he’s perspiring and desperate – when it’s all _please, please, please_ \- all taste, touch and sensation. Severus is good at that. Really good.

He runs his tongue over the slit of Severus’ cock, tasting him a little before pushing down around him. He takes a couple of slides with his tongue to get Severus slick but he knows they don’t have the luxury of time. With a groan, he pushes as low as he can and relaxes his throat to take Severus’ long, thick length into the back of his mouth. The response from Severus is a slight jerk of his hips and a _Harry_ that sounds ragged and broken.

Well, good. Severus _should_ feel as good as Harry does. If he’s capable of smirking and teasing Harry, then Harry’s definitely not doing his job properly. He slides his tongue along the shaft of Severus’ cock before taking him deep into his mouth again. He remembers how Severus likes it. He remembers learning the tricks with his mouth and his tongue which would leave Severus sated, curling his hand in Harry’s hair and perusing him with a lazy, dark-eyed stare. Harry wants to see that look again. He wants Severus to look at him during the speeches with kiss-bitten lips and dark eyes, full of desire. He wants to stand so close to Severus their arms brush and to feel the gentle squeeze of Severus’ hand in his own. 

“Harry…” Severus says his name again, with a groan. Harry knows it’s a warning but he doesn’t care. He’s not about to pull back, not now. He’s desperate to taste Severus, to feel him spilling in Harry’s mouth and down his throat. With a low moan, Harry continues sucking Severus with renewed vigour until Severus pulses into his throat, warm and salty. With a contented hum, Harry pulls back and pushes off the cold tiles to stand. He wobbles slightly and Severus catches him, tugging him into a slow kiss.

“We should go back.”

“Must we?” Severus looks disgruntled and turns his eyes heavenward. “Yes, I suppose we must. You no doubt want to celebrate and get horribly drunk with your friends.”

“Not that drunk.” Harry kisses Severus again, just because he can. “Not when I’m already thinking about later.”

“Ah, yes.” Severus’ eyes take on a glint of anticipation. “Our room.”

“Our room,” Harry agrees with a wink. 

He leaves before Severus, the taste of his kisses still rich on Harry’s tongue. He touches his fingers to his lips briefly and settles into his seat, unable to take his eyes off Severus when he returns to Harry moments after.

*

“I thought you weren’t going to get drunk?”

“I’m hardly drunk. Drunk on love, maybe.” Harry claps his hand over his mouth. Shit. Perhaps he is a bit drunk.

Severus arches an eyebrow and snorts softly. “Actually, I think you’ll find it was the last glass of chocolate liquor and the rousing chorus of _Muggle Me Good_ with Mr Weasley.” He _harrumphs_. “Ridiculous song.”

“You didn’t dance.” Harry tugs Severus close, ignoring his grousing. He swings them both around until they’re dizzy and Severus is complaining loud enough to wake the room next door. “Better?” They stop, Severus’ wine-sweet breath warm on Harry’s cheek and his arms tight around Harry.

“Barely tolerable.” Severus keeps Harry close, nevertheless. He brushes their lips together and gives Harry a swat on the backside. “Shower, then bed.”

“Not fair. I wanted to celebrate properly with you.” Harry presses close to Severus to show him he’s still quite capable of having a good time, even if he might have had a glass too many. “I promise not to sing.”

“I should think not.” Severus looks horrified. He hands Harry a small vial and nudges him towards the bathroom. “This should counteract the effect of the alcohol if you wish. Go.”

“Aren’t you going to join me?” Harry tries to give Severus an enticing stare but the slight stumble into the bathroom ruins the impact. 

Severus raises his eyes heavenward. “The potion will take ten minutes or so to have any impact and I’d rather not be serenaded from the shower.”

Harry drains the potion and shrugs, starting the shower with a whistle. He lets the cold spray run over his body and only yelps slightly at the unexpected cold. He can’t help but laugh when he hears Severus muttering to himself from the room next door. 

“Is there a problem?”

“ _Do_ try not to injure yourself too badly, Potter. I have plans which don’t involve tending to a drunken invalid.”

_Oh_. Harry rather likes Severus’ plans and he showers much more quickly after that.

When he’s settled in bed and Severus emerges from the shower, the potion has definitely taken effect. Harry gives Severus a sheepish look.

“Was I awful?”

“Absolutely.” Severus looks as though he doesn’t mind too much, rubbing the towel against his hair. He’s in pyjama bottoms and shirtless, his pale skin and mess of scars on his torso making Harry’s breath hitch. He’s suddenly desperate to get his hands on Severus again – to trace his tongue over every line and bump that reminds him of everything Severus is and was.

“I’m actually naked under here.” Harry lets the duvet slide down just enough to prove that is indeed the case and waves at Severus’ pyjamas. “Doesn’t seem very fair.”

“No.” Severus’ lips twitch but he slides down his pyjama bottoms and advances towards the bed. He’s thick and long, half-hard already as he stares at Harry through lidded eyes. It’s too long to wait for Severus to come to him, so Harry sits up and tugs him into a kiss until they fall back in an ungainly tangle of limbs onto the sheets.

Severus slides his hands beneath Harry’s backside, squeezing. He throws the duvet onto the floor muttering something about suffocating to death and makes his way down Harry’s body, his tongue dipping into Harry’s bellybutton and running over Harry’s cock.

“Please, Severus…” Harry’s not even sure what he’s asking for, but Severus seems to know and he nudges Harry over onto his hands and knees. Harry goes willingly, fighting back a groan when Severus parts his cheeks and blows warm breath along Harry’s crease. “Merlin, yes.”

Severus responds with a light swat to Harry’s backside which goes straight to his cock and a huff of laughter. Harry’s almost inclined to say something cheeky just to see if Severus might swat him again, but then Severus’ tongue slides over his hole and it’s all he can do to keep himself upright. Severus tongues at Harry with slow precision, his mouth doing wicked things to Harry. Severus lets out a low growl of pleasure as if he likes this – the way Harry tastes fresh from the shower after using Severus’ soap just so his skin would smell like Severus in the morning. He tongues at Harry until he’s almost shaking with need, clutching onto the sheets and rocking back towards Severus. The sensation of slim fingers gripping Harry’s backside and pulling him open to expose him to Severus’ gaze and firm touch is almost too much. Harry needs more. He wants everything Severus can give him. He almost says as much before Severus nudges him onto his back again, slicking his long fingers.

“I love it when you do that.” Harry stares at the slick length of Severus’ fingers, his lips parted as a huff of air escapes between them. “It’s _brilliant_.”

“Naturally.” Severus smirks but his eyes have that same, dark look which show Harry he’s by no means unaffected. His cock is hard now, full and thick against Harry’s thigh as he slides over him and pushes his legs apart. “Let me hear you, Harry.”

Harry bites his bottom lip when Severus kisses the mark he left earlier on Harry’s neck and works one long finger inside him. He knows what Severus means. He has a tendency to babble all sorts of nonsense when Severus takes him apart, one stroke of his fingers at a time. The sensation of someone else touching him is unbearably good and when Severus seeks out his prostate with two fingers now deep inside Harry, it’s all he can do not to cry out.

“Missed this so much,” he says instead. His cry leaves him finally when Severus twists his fingers again. He works them into Harry until he’s squirming and rocking back towards Severus’ hands. He reaches a hand into Severus’ hair and tugs him close. “Come on, then. Fuck me, will you?”

“I’ll give you what you want.” Severus brushes his lips over Harry’s ear, his voice a low command. “Just…” Then he’s trailing off and returns with a low groan of his own with a third finger, slipping easily inside Harry. He takes his time working Harry open until Harry’s sure he’s going to come from this alone and he arches up, begging Severus again. He doesn’t even care how wrecked his voice sounds or how much he must look like he’s desperate for this. He _is_. He wants Severus so much his cock aches with it and his body is taut, his skin tingling with desire. A warmth gathers in his belly as Severus slides his fingers out of Harry and – at last – slicks his cock. 

Harry licks his lips in anticipation, watching the way Severus strokes himself slowly. The slick slide of his hand over his length has Harry practically salivating by the time Severus presses against him.

The first push in makes them both groan, jagged breath catching in the air between them. Severus kisses Harry and begins to move, pushing deep into him and hitting the right angle on every stroke. Harry worms his hand between them, sliding over his own cock while Severus takes him with long, smooth strokes. He squeezes the base of it when Severus murmurs _slow_ and _steady_ as if he wants the moment to last for as long as it possibly can. Then Severus lets go, arms bracketed around Harry’s head and his movements hard and fast. Harry arches into them, pushing back and twisting and sliding his hand until the sensations overwhelm him and he comes with a shout. Severus follows closely behind, Harry’s name falling from his lips which he cuts off with a fierce, biting kiss which is all breath, teeth and tongue.

Finally they separate, lying back and staring at the ceiling. Harry’s hand inches across the bed just as it did the night before. He locks their fingers together and Severus responds with a sigh which sounds like Harry’s name – almost reverential in the darkness of the room.

“We’ll be okay this time, won’t we?” Harry doesn’t expect his voice to sound so small and Severus responds with a squeeze of his hand.

“Yes, Potter.”

“Because I was miserable without you. I think…maybe you were miserable with me too?”

Severus is silent, his breathing the only sound in the room. When he finally says _yes_ it’s as if the word was painful to say out loud. 

Harry shuffles close and presses his head to Severus’ chest. He listens to the beating of Severus’ heart and closes his eyes as Severus slides his fingers through his hair. 

“I’ll wake you up if I have nightmares. Promise.”

“Wonderful. I look forward to nights of interrupted sleep.”

Harry snorts with laughter and pinches Severus just because he can. 

“It’s not every night, you know. We don’t have to sleep together all the time.”

Severus pauses, his hand tightening in Harry’s hair. “No.”

Harry looks up at Severus and kisses him, slow and soft. “I’ll probably be round loads, though. Making a nuisance of myself. Singing in the shower. That sort of thing.”

“Unbearable.” Severus’ hand moves through Harry’s hair again and he pulls the duvet around them both, until Harry is warm all over.

“It really will be.”

When Severus sighs this time, it sounds almost content.

For the first time in ages, Harry falls asleep with a smile on his face.

_~Fin~_


End file.
